


Still Something I Would Do For You

by keeves



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Mental Illness, Top Anakin Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 11:31:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13457340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keeves/pseuds/keeves
Summary: Obi-Wan gets a surprise visit from Anakin.





	Still Something I Would Do For You

**Author's Note:**

> Modern AU because I do what I want!  
> Title is from the song I Could Fight On A Wall by Aquilo.

Obi-Wan is genuinely surprised to see Anakin standing outside the doorway to his apartment, just as Obi-Wan is cleaning up after dinner. He opens the door, giving his young friend a once-over, and immediately deducing that something is wrong. Anakin shouldn’t be here, at this time or ever, really.

“Anakin?” He says, opening his door all the way. “What’s wrong?”

Anakin’s expression is troubled, with his forehead pinched between his eyebrows. His eyes flick back and forth between Obi-Wan’s knees and his socks. “Can I come in?” He asks. His voice sounds rough around the edges.

“Uh, of course,” Obi-Wan says, stepping aside. He watches Anakin pass by and notices in the dim light that the shoulders of his denim jacket are damp. Reaching out, Obi-Wan touches his hand to Anakin’s shoulder to confirm his observations, then looks across his apartment and out his window. It’s too dark to actually see the rain, but in the quiet of the moment, he can hear it. He pulls Anakin around to face him. “How did you get here?”

Anakin shrugs, sticking his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. “Bus.”

Obi-Wan shakes his head, deciding to leave that particular subject alone. “Why are you here? What’s wrong, Anakin?” He leaves his hand where it is, pressing his thumb against Anakin’s collarbone in what he hopes is a comforting manner. He can tell something is wrong, it’s more than obvious in the way Anakin takes his hands back out of his pockets and drags them through his hair. Obi-Wan can’t help but notice the scabs on his knuckles. His eyes stay averted, and Obi-Wan tries to will Anakin to look at him, as though looking in the face will better allow Obi-Wan to diagnose the problem.

“I just…” Anakin starts, and Obi-Wan waits patiently until he’s sure that Anakin isn’t going to finish.

“Here,” Obi-Wan takes his hand off of Anakin’s shoulder, offering it to his friend instead. “Give me your jacket, it’s all wet. You can borrow one of my sweaters if you’re cold.”

That gets half a smile out of Anakin. He shrugs his jacket off and hands it to Obi-Wan, lifting his chin a little. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in a turtleneck, old man.”

Obi-Wan sighs heavily in mock exasperation as he hangs Anakin’s jacket on one of the pegs behind his door to dry. “Suit yourself. Don’t come crawling back if you want me to turn the heat up.” He hears Anakin let out a snort of a laugh and shares a private smile with himself before turning around. “Have you eaten?”

Anakin blinks. “Oh. Um, no.” He reaches up to scratch at his eyebrow with one finger.

“Come in, I’ll make you something,” Obi-Wan says, beckoning with one hand as he rounds the corner to his tiny kitchen. There’s barely enough room for the two of them, but Obi-Wan lets Anakin stand there as he searches through his fridge for inspiration.

He leans on the open fridge door when an idea comes to him. “I’ll make you a grilled cheese. I probably have some soup around here, too.”

Anakin fidgets, his cheeks flushing red. Obi-Wan can tell that he’s embarrassed and expects him to say something along the lines of  _ I’m not a kid, Obi-Wan _ but instead he just says, “Sure, okay,” so Obi-Wan gets to work.

Eventually, it gets awkward with Anakin in the middle of the kitchen, so he ducks out of the way and sits at Obi-Wan’s breakfast bar with his back hunched. He sits quietly while Obi-Wan tries not to press him for an answer to why he’s in Obi-Wan’s apartment right now. Obi-Wan passes a plate and a mug across the counter and starts scrubbing the pan he’d used so he wouldn’t make it weird by watching Anakin eat. Weirder than it already is.

“Thanks,” Anakin says, voice muffled by bread.

Obi-Wan smiles at him briefly. “Of course.”

Awkward. Quiet. Obi-Wan rinses out the pan.

“You are a very good friend,” Anakin says suddenly. It comes out sort of clipped, like he had just spent the last several minutes contemplating saying it or not.

“I certainly try to be,” Obi-Wan responds, setting his pan in the drying rack by the sink and resting his palms on the breakfast bar, across from Anakin.

Anakin shakes his head. “No, you don’t understand.” He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “I’ve never had a friend who I’ve felt so safe with. Who– where I can just show up at their apartments or whatever when I– when I need it.” He frowns at his empty plate, and Obi-Wan waits patiently once again.

When Anakin looks up at him, Obi-Wan suddenly feels as though he’s under pressure. Pressure from those blue, blue eyes. Cliché as it sounds, Obi-Wan feels pierced by them, pinned in place and unable to move. His mouth is suddenly dry.

“Obi-Wan, there’s something that I need to tell you.”

Obi-Wan’s heart thumps in his chest. He tries to swallow, tries to wet his mouth with saliva, but even his tongue feels too heavy to lift.

“Sometimes, I have these… episodes,” Anakin begins. “I might see something, or hear something, or even just think it, and I’ll just kind of… lose it.” He struggles to find his words. “Like, maybe I’ll blank out and kind of… wake up later with my knuckles all busted up.” He shows Obi-Wan his hands, scarred and bruised. “Or I’ll just… I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.” He hides his hands under the lip of the counter, scowling at nothing.

Obi-Wan feels sluggish, weighed down. His shoulders begin to droop, until he starts listening to Anakin’s words again. Anakin needs a friend. He needs someone to listen. Obi-Wan sighs, walking around the end of the breakfast bar and towards his living area. Anakin gets up without saying anything at first, but then remembers his plate and mug.

“The dishes..?” He says slowly.

Obi-Wan just waves a hand dismissively. He’ll clean them up later. Anakin accepts this as an answer and comes over to sit on Obi-Wan’s couch. Obi-Wan sits in the armchair right beside the couch, close to Anakin, but not too close.

“Tell me everything you can, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, gathering his wits about him.

“Well,” Anakin swallows, tucking his feet up on the couch. The holes in his jeans stretch wide to make room for his knees. “I’ve just been so… angry.” He taps his fist his thigh as he speaks. “Everything makes me mad. Almost everything. And I react so much. I get mad and I yell and scream and I think it’s starting to scare people, Obi-Wan. I can’t just talk about it with most of my friends, so it just kind of… builds up. And I lash out and… punch the wall, I guess.” He laughs bitterly, flexing his hand. “Sometimes…” A pause. Deep, shaking inhale. “Sometimes I hear things. Voices. Calling to me. Fuck.”

Anakin drops his head, but not before Obi-Wan sees the way his eyes are shining. Instinctively, he leans across the space between them, offering his hand, palm facing upwards. Anakin regards it carefully before placing his own battered hand in Obi-Wan’s. As Obi-Wan squeezes his fingers, Anakin breathes.

“You can tell me anything, Anakin. Don’t let those feelings bottle up inside of you. I will always be here to listen.” Obi-Wan runs his thumb over the scabs on Anakin’s knuckles, feeling out the way they catch on his skin. “Don’t hesitate to call. Or anything. I will always be here for you, no matter what.”

Anakin nods, breathing in harshly through his nose. “It scares me, Obi-Wan,” he admits.

“I know, Anakin. But don’t try to bear the weight of this all on your own. You have friends that love and care about you. It’s harder to be scared when you know that there are people standing beside you.”

Anakin lifts his head. “Do you love me, Obi-Wan?”

Initially, Obi-Wan is taken aback, his heart doing a foolish little skip. He recovers quickly. “Of course. There are many people who love you–”

“No, do  _ you _ love me?” Anakin interrupts.

Obi-Wan swallows hard. “Yes, I do.”

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Anakin.”

Anakin closes the space between them, pressing his lips softly against Obi-Wan’s, eyes closed. Obi-Wan feels that he should be surprised, but for some reason, he isn’t. He lets his eyes fall closed as well, only pulling back when Anakin does. When he opens his eyes again, Anakin is looking back at him, the area around his eyes wet and his cheeks red.

With the hand that Obi-Wan isn’t holding, Anakin reaches up and touches the side of Obi-Wan’s face, his thumb stroking through his beard. “I love you too, Obi-Wan.”

This time it’s Obi-Wan who kisses Anakin, still gripping his hand. He feels Anakin’s fingers slide into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer. He wants to climb into Anakin’s lap, show him that he’s there for him, always, but that would be silly and highly inappropriate–

Anakin is still pulling on him, licking against Obi-Wan’s mouth, so Obi-Wan relents and joins Anakin on the couch, straddling his hips. They kiss open-mouthed, holding hands. Somewhere along the line, Anakin entwines their fingers together.

They break apart again and Anakin drops Obi-Wan’s hand, wrapping his arms tight around Obi-Wan’s torso and burying his face in the crook of his neck. He breathes deeply. Obi-Wan drags his fingers through Anakin’s hair. “You could have called,” he says, and immediately feels like an idiot.

“I needed to see you,” Anakin replies, kissing lightly at Obi-Wan’s neck. “Touch you. Hold you. Kiss you.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t say anything, his face heating up under his skin.

“I was scared, and you make me feel safe, so I ran here.” Anakin lifts his head.

Obi-Wan cups Anakin’s face in his hands. “I will always be here for you, Anakin,” he reiterates, and Anakin kisses him again. 

This kiss is shorter than the last, and Anakin backs off to speak again. “Can I stay here tonight, with you?” He asks.

“Of course.” Obi-Wan offers a smile and Anakin pecks at the corner of his mouth. Reluctant as he is, Obi-Wan gets off of Anakin’s lap and offers him a hand, pulling him to his feet.

He leads Anakin down the hall to his bedroom, where they both start disrobing. Anakin is wearing significantly fewer layers than Obi-Wan, so he’s shirtless first, giving Obi-Wan a full view of his sculpted chest and abdomen. Obi-Wan suddenly feels a little shy. He’s soft, just like the clothes he wears. So he strips down to his undershirt and leaves it at that.

They’re both in their boxers, just looking at each other, until Obi-Wan says, “I have an extra toothbrush you can use.” He shows him across the hall to the bathroom, where he hands Anakin a still-packaged toothbrush and squeezes himself some toothpaste before handing that off to Anakin as well. He’s almost halfway through brushing his teeth before he looks up in the mirror and catches Anakin staring at him. Mouth full of foam, he doesn’t say anything.

Their reflections make eye-contact and Anakin presses his chest against Obi-Wan's back, setting the toothbrush and toothpaste on the counter by the sink. His hands settle on Obi-Wan’s hips, his fingers tracing along the waistband of Obi-Wan’s boxers, then tucking beneath the hem of his shirt. Obi-Wan can feel Anakin’s breath on the back of his neck before the press of his lips against Obi-Wan’s skin.

Obi-Wan hurries to rinse out his mouth and turn around, leaning back against the counter and facing Anakin. They’re very close, noses nearly brushing. One of Anakin’s hands slides up underneath Obi-Wan’s shirt, pressing flat to his back, pulling their bodies flush. When Anakin tries to kiss him again, Obi-Wan ducks his head so that Anakin’s lips graze just above his eyebrow and slips out of his grasp.

“Brush your teeth,” Obi-Wan says, a little breathlessly. Anakin just looks at him for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek, then tears the toothbrush package open and pops the cap off the toothpaste. Obi-Wan goes back to his bedroom, turning off the overhead light and crawling into bed. He switches on the reading lamp on his bedside table and looks at his modest stack of books, wondering if it’s worth it to pretend to read. He doesn’t come to a conclusion before Anakin is standing in his doorway, his face caught in the shadows. “That was fast,” Obi-Wan remarks, picking up the book on the top of his stack.

Anakin stands at the end of the bed and Obi-Wan pretends to be interested in the blurb on the back of his book. He feels the mattress shift under Anakin’s weight as he climbs on, crawling forward until he hovers over Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan stares up at him, unable to tear his eyes away.

“Put that down,” Anakin says. His voice is commanding, but quiet. His eyes are soft. Obi-Wan sets the book aside.

They kiss again, but this time, it’s hungry, with teeth and tongue. Anakin bites at Obi-Wan’s lip, tugging it as his hands start to pull away the covers between them. Obi-Wan digs his fingers into Anakin’s hair, then drags his hands down the back of Anakin’s neck, over his shoulders, across his chest. He’s so hard, everywhere. Obi-Wan feels shy again.

Anakin slots his hips between Obi-Wan’s legs and grinds against him, and Obi-Wan breaks their kiss with a gasp, grabbing tight to Anakin’s shoulders. “You should know,” he says, “I haven’t done anything like this in quite some time.”

“That’s okay,” Anakin says against his cheek, inhaling deeply before pressing their mouths together again. Again, his hands start to creep under Obi-Wan’s shirt, pushing it up over his stomach as his hips move in slow circles against Obi-Wan’s crotch. Anakin starts to kiss at Obi-Wan’s neck, along the line of his beard. “Wanted you for so long,” he murmurs.

Obi-Wan is at a loss for words. “Wanted you too,” he manages.

Anakin kisses him again, harder, more aggressive. He starts rutting his hips against Obi-Wan’s, and Obi-Wan suddenly wishes that Anakin was wearing a shirt so that he had something to hold on to. He settles for digging his short nails into Anakin’s back, and feels a little thrill go through him when Anakin groans. Curious, he drags his nails across Anakin’s skin and is rewarded by another guttural sound accompanied by Anakin yanking Obi-Wan’s boxers to his knees. Obi-Wan’s hard cock bounces against his navel, and he flushes.

“I was going to try and make this last, but you’re making it pretty hard,” Anakin pants, wrapping a fist around Obi-Wan’s cock and pressing his thumb against the tip. Obi-Wan tries to respond, but his words are caught in his throat. All that comes out is a choked moan.

Anakin kicks his own boxers off and lines his cock up with Obi-Wan’s, holding them against each other in one hand. Obi-Wan props himself up on his elbows to see, feeling increasingly breathless as the seconds tick by. Anakin squeezes their cocks together, jerking them both off simultaneously.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan pants, “Anakin.”

Anakin reaches up with his free hand to stroke Obi-Wan’s face. “I love you,” he says.

“I love y– _ ah _ , love you too.” Obi-Wan’s voice shakes. “Rubbers and everything…” He waves at his bedside table with one hand. “If you want to… If you want to…”

“Yes, yes, yes I want to.” Anakin kisses him before reaching across to open the drawer, digging blindly around without letting go of his and Obi-Wan’s cocks. Eventually, he finds what he’s looking for, producing a bottle of lube and a string of condoms. He uncaps the bottle with his thumb and lets go of his and Obi-Wan’s cocks, slicking his fingers and reaching down to draw a wet circle around Obi-Wan’s hole. Obi-Wan gasps, hooking one leg around Anakin’s narrow waist, then shuts his jaw tight when Anakin starts pressing one finger in.

Just the one finger feels incredible. Obi-Wan really doesn’t indulge himself that often. He’s always considered himself too busy for sex, but somehow, this seems to be working out. He lets out a breathy noise as Anakin moves his finger in and out slowly.

“Good?” Anakin asks.

Obi-Wan nods, some of his hair falling in his face. “Yes, yes.” Anakin brushes the hair back behind his ear, which Obi-Wan finds incredibly romantic, despite the fact that Anakin is putting his finger up Obi-Wan’s ass. That can be romantic too, right? Obi-Wan holds Anakin’s face between his hands and sits up a little until their mouths meet. “I love you, Anakin,” He sighs.

He can feel Anakin smiling against his lips, which is enough of an answer. Anakin pistons his one finger back and forth until he decides Obi-Wan can take another, pushing his middle finger in alongside his index. Obi-Wan can feel the stretch, gasping and grabbing at Anakin’s hair for any kind of leverage. Anakin just kisses him again, keeping his pace slow, slow. Making sure that Obi-Wan isn’t overwhelmed. He scrapes his nails through Obi-Wan’s beard in a comforting manner. Obi-Wan wants to melt into his arms.

“Can you take another?” Anakin asks, broken by soft kisses all over Obi-Wan’s face. Obi-Wan nods hastily, throwing his other leg around Anakin’s waist.

“Yes,” he breathes. “Please.” Anakin pushes in his third finger. Obi-Wan grits his teeth and holds on. Anakin holds his face, each of them panting into the other’s mouth.

“Love you so much,” Anakin mumbles. “Been waiting so long.”

“Me too, me too,” Obi-Wan agrees, bucking his hips, trying to push Anakin’s fingers deeper. “Please don’t make me wait any longer.”

Anakin bites his lip to keep himself from smiling too big. Obi-Wan lets go of his hair with one hand, tracing the edges of Anakin’s smile with his fingertips. His gesture falters as Anakin stretches him open with his three fingers, forcing a gasp from his chest. “F-fuck, Anakin, please!” He cries.

The fingers inside of Obi-Wan retreat, leaving Obi-Wan feeling empty and just a little desperate. He groans, thrusting upwards, seeking some sort of friction. One of Anakin’s hands holds Obi-Wan’s hips steady and the other goes for the condoms, dropping them on Obi-Wan’s chest.

“Open one, will you? I can’t keep my hands off…” Anakin runs his hands up Obi-Wan’s sides, then back down. Obi-Wan hurries to tear the top condom from the string and rip the packet open before offering it to Anakin. Anakin takes it, rolls it on in one practiced motion, and lines up with Obi-Wan’s hole. Obi-Wan breathes through his nose, Anakin’s hands moving against his ribs as Obi-Wan’s lungs expand and contract. One of Anakin’s hands goes to hold his cock steady. “Tell me if it hurts,” Anakin says. Obi-Wan nods once, and Anakin starts to push in.

Obi-Wan lets his head fall back against the pillows on his bed, the remaining condoms sliding off of his sternum to the floor. He groans, dragging his nails across Anakin’s back again. Anakin lets out a sharp exhale, dipping his head to kiss Obi-Wan’s neck when he bottoms out.

“Move,” Obi-Wan hisses.

Anakin starts slowly, holding Obi-Wan’s head between his hands. Obi-Wan wraps himself around Anakin, pulling their chests against each other, pressing as they breathe. Their mouths come together again, their kissing becoming more hurried and sloppy as Anakin increases his pace. Eventually, Obi-Wan has to break away to let out a long, high-pitched sound, eyes shut tight and toes curling.

“Yes, yes, fuck, Anakin, oh God,” he pants, clawing at Anakin’s skin. The mattress starts to bounce beneath them, and Obi-Wan slaps a hand over his mouth, muffling a particularly loud groan. Anakin just as quickly pulls his hand away, entwining their fingers together and touching his forehead to Obi-Wan’s.

“Love you,” Anakin huffs. All Obi-Wan can muster in response is a strangled gasp. Anakin angles his hips, fucking up into Obi-Wan in a way that makes his spine arch, his other hand flailing until Anakin grabs that hand as well, pinning them to the bed and sticking his nose into the cook of Obi-Wan’s neck.

“I’m going to come,” Obi-Wan says, voice ragged. Anakin lets go of his hands, moving instead to cradle his face between his palms, lifting his head and staring into Obi-Wan’s eyes. Obi-Wan’s own hands scramble, looking for something to hold onto, to touch. They settle on Anakin’s neck and jaw, fingers in his hair.

As Obi-Wan comes, he sees Anakin looking down at him, mouth hanging open and eyes adoring. Sweat beads on his forehead, sticking strands of his hair to his skin. Obi-Wan is sure he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his entire, quiet life. He manages to keep his eyes open until he’s spent himself all over both he and Anakin’s stomachs, then shuts them tight and winds his arms around Anakin’s shoulders. He pants out a quiet series of  _ ah, ah, ah _ s as Anakin keeps fucking him.

Anakin comes shortly after, his whole body shuddering and his fingertips pressing into the hollows of Obi-Wan’s hips. He pulls out, taking the condom off and tying it before throwing it carelessly on the floor. He lays his head against Obi-Wan’s chest, ignoring the come sticking them both together. They both breathe heavily.

“Did you know?” Obi-Wan says when he catches his breath.

“Know what?” Anakin responds.

“That I loved you? Before?” Obi-Wan strokes the back of Anakin’s head.

Anakin sighs. “I don’t know. But I knew that I loved you. And I wanted you to love me back.”

“Well,” Obi-Wan says, laying one hand across his forehead, “I love you.”

Anakin lifts his head, a ghost of a smile on his face. “I love you too, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan smiles back before speaking again. “Now, get off me before we end up stuck together for all eternity.” He pushes at Anakin’s shoulder until he rolls to one side, onto the bed instead of on Obi-Wan.

“I wouldn’t mind that so much,” Anakin says.

Obi-Wan flushes. “Well, I would.” He turns off the light by his bed and takes his shirt the rest of the way off, more confident in the darkness. He uses it to wipe the come off of his stomach before rolling over and dropping it on Anakin’s chest. Once Anakin decides he is cleaned up enough, he balls the shirt up and throws it across the room, then hooking one arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders and pulling their bodies together beneath the covers. He presses his lips to Obi-Wan’s temple.

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

“It turned out rather well, don’t you think?” Obi-Wan lets his eyes fall closed as he rests his head on Anakin’s shoulder. “You’ve tired me out. Be quiet and let me sleep.”

Anakin jostles him a little, laughing quietly. “Okay, Obi-Wan. Goodnight.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t respond. He falls asleep with Anakin’s arms around him, hoping that they’ll still be there in the morning.


End file.
